


safety, sanity & slowing down

by andjoseph



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: It's mostly contemporary and normal, M/M, More characters to come as we go!!!, Slightly Supernaturally AU, They own/work in a bar, Well?? For now, called The Foxhole ofc, well not really but?? like there's charms and slight witchcraft but nothing Too Deep
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-01-30 21:34:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12661866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andjoseph/pseuds/andjoseph
Summary: When Neil Josten ends up making a safe haven out of Foxhole, he didn't realise that meant he had to give up the one thing most important to him - his ability to lie.





	1. Don't Slow Down.

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is pretty messy in terms of pace (esp at the start) because I needed to set things up to get it going but!!!!! It should be okay for next chapter & so on!! I also don't have a beta tester so I apologize for any errors in advance!!

Safety was a privilege many had yet few truly appreciated. Safety meant a place you could call home, a person you could trust with your life, an easily definable source of security. And while safety was not a concept Nathaniel Wesninski was particularly familiar with, with his mother at his back, and a gun in his hand - it had never, really, felt that far out of reach. And it was never really something he ever considered losing.

Or, that is, until he lost it. 

And with no-one to cover his back, no ammo to save himself, only the smell of a burning beach and the sound of skin sticking like velcro and pulling away all the same - it was hard for him not to feel like his world was crumbling. And _although don't slow down_ was the only thing he dared to live by, it felt impossible to stick to it when all he could think about was the consequence he'd just witnessed of failing to do so. And he knows if she was still here, she'd be telling him to get a new passport, a new name, to get as far away from here as possible and to use this as a learning experience and to fuel his motivation but there's nothing he wants to do more than sit and rest and recover. Just for the moment, just for the night. 

He knows he should have known better than that - that his father's men would be in their prime straight after they've just found them, after taking his mother down a peg and seeing the pure fear Nathaniel exhibited during their encounter. But after burning his own mother's body in a crude excuse for a burial, checking into one of the closest hotels was probably one of the sloppiest things he could have done. He'd done it under a pseudonym of course, but that didn't mean it wasn't obvious. There were only so many young boys checking into bed and breakfasts alone, and whether he'd paid under the table or not, it was still an easy trail to follow. 

Which is exactly how he ended up climbing out of a window with a bullet in his shoulder, door barricaded shut with a dresser he'd left there to ease his paranoia which had done little more than protect his legs when they'd shot through the door. _Don't_ _slow down_ can best explain the cuts and blisters forming on his feet as he sprints away from the building, down all the secluded alleyways and through what looks like one of the worst neighbourhoods he can imagine. At least he can blend in easily here. And ducking into a bar, head down and hood up, shivering from the cold, he looks no less out of place than anyone else here. 

"What'd'ya want?" The bartender asks, sounding far too happy to be working in a place like this, and Nathaniel ignores him in favour of keeping quiet. His shoulder feels like death and he's almost certain his voice will give it away the second he even tries. 

"C'mon, say somethin' or I'll have to get my manager to come on over here." He says, not a beat later, voice just as whiny and annoying as it was the first time. "Least take your hood down or you'll spook the other customers." 

"Shut up." Nathaniel bites back through gritted teeth.

"Woah, I was just asking, I can't even serve you if you asked," He looks up in time to see the other surveying him, "What are you? Like, 12? What are you doing here anyway?" 

"It's none of your business." 

"You know, we attract troubled kids, it's like, our brand." 

"Shut up." 

"Hey, hey, what's going on over here?" A masculine voice asks from behind him, and Nathaniel can't believe he'd let someone get that close without noticing, his hearts hammering in his chest before he hears a much lighter tone aimed at the bartender. "Nicky, what did I tell you about scaring the customers?" 

"Aww, Matt, c'mon, you're just mad 'cause you're on cleaning duty and I'm on bar." 

"Not for much longer if you keep trying to serve under 21s." 

"Wymack'll probably wanna talk to him anyway, so it's like, my personal duty to keep him here." 

Nathaniel looked up from the table where he was resting his head -- he felt so slow, so stupid for sticking around. But even thinking about moving off of the barstool made him feel like it was the hardest thing he'd ever have to do. His eyes felt tired, and his arm hurt and he was scared to death. Safety was no longer a privilege he had to use, and for that reason exactly he knows he has to stay awake, stay alert, don't _slow down_. But that's incredibly difficult with persistent bloodloss from the upper-shoulder, bullet still lodged firmly inside and not a soul in the vicinity knowing about it as they bicker on. 

"I don't wanna talk to anyone," He tries, doing everything he can to sound innocent, to avoid sounding suspicious.

"Then what'd'ya wanna do?" Nicky, as the other one had called him, asks him, to which he just shrugs - a move he regrets instantly, swallowing down his wince. "Shit, kid, you look like you're gonna cry. Matt, go get Wymack." 

"Get him yourself," he says back, before following it with a "Just kidding, keep an eye on him. He's looking a little flighty, if you know what I mean."

Fortunately, Nicky looked like he had no idea what Matt meant, and the second he was looking preoccupied with another customer, Nathaniel was slipping off the barstool. A bullet in your shoulder isn't even close to the shit you've gone through, he hears his own voice spit at him in a tone that sounds far too much like his mothers. He's cursing himself for running bare-foot earlier, half-limping his way to the door, only to be knocked down when he gets there.

"And what exactly are you going?" The blonde figure stood over him asks, baseball bat that had taken the air out of his lungs in hand and a grin like the moon lacing his features.

"I'm leaving," Nathaniel chokes back in reply, instantly back to regretting the split-second decision that led him here all over again.

"Why?" The blonde is asking, like it isn't obvious. Like there's any reason for him to stay.

"They won't--" And the words won't come. _They won't sell me a drink._ It's an easy enough lie -- and lying is part of his nature, the driving force behind everything he's ever done and everything he's ever known. "They won't--"

"What? They won't what?" He mocks, "Won't call your parents? Won't let you get you get drunk? You're bleeding on the carpet by the way, and I can assure you that I definitely didn't cause that. Blunt force is good and all but I can only wish it was that effective."

"Shut up," And it feels like that's all he can say, his brain not quite functioning the way it should be -- it's something he can recognise from past blood-loss.

"What's wrong? Don't like my hospitality? It's okay, the managers here - complain your weak little heart away." 

"Shit, Minyard," He's saying, and even half-delirious Nathaniel can recognise a set-up. This man -- there's no way he's not associated with his father. "What did you do to him? You've gotten blood on my grey carpet." 

"He arrived like that. Damaged in shipping. Nicky's just unobservant as usual."

The man just rolls his eyes - and Nathaniel is terrified. _Don't_ _slow down_ , don't trust anyone. And bleeding out, it's hard to keep up a good pace, but that doesn't mean he has to trust anyone. Even a man who looked as though he was consciously trying to keep his hands in Nathaniel's line of sight, crouching down to his level and trying his best to meet his eyes. 

"I can help you," The man said, clear and concise. And Nathaniel knew that the last thing he wanted was to put his trust in someone he doesn't know - but with the haze that was pulling over him, and the blood spilling out of his shoulder, he didn't think he had much of a choice. 

_Don't_ _slow down_ , his mother had told him not even a day ago, _Don't trust anyone._  

Yet here he was, losing consciousness in a place he didn't even know, surrounded by people he couldn't even consider trusting.

 

*                      *                      *

With bleary eyes, it's too easy to mistake the woman treating him for his mother. Between her countless different hair and eye combinations over the years, it takes him a moment to focus and pick up the blonde and blue that definitely doesn't belong to his own mother.

 From there, it only takes a moment to put together the events of yesterday which led to this, the reminder that him waking up meant that he fell asleep. He let his guard down, and as a result, he has no idea where he is and has no idea where the entrances and exits are or when he'll need them. And he's pretty sure he needs them now.

He's sitting up too abruptly, causing the woman beside him to jump out of her skin - at least he has the upperhand.

"Where am I?" He's asking, because demanding an answer now while the pain has subsided - without a doubt from drugs, which he'd spent so much time avoiding in case they slowed him down -- seemed like a better idea than doing it when he was in agony again. And with the curtains pulled closed, it's hard to see what time it was or how high up they are or--

"Foxhole," She says, like it's supposed to mean anything to him, "Are you feeling better now?"

"What does that mean?" He asks in lieu of an answer. "Who are you?"

"It's a bar and -- I suppose, a hostel? I'm not sure what it'd be--"

"Who are you?" He repeats, not caring for the details. A hostel he could deal with - especially one that seemed so secluded and empty right now. He wasn't sure how reliable the information was, but it was there.

"Me? I look after the people here."

He doesn't have time to react before the door is opening, the man from before stood there, looking reasonably exhausted.

"You gonna be a problem?" Is all he asks, leaning on the frame.

"No, I'm leaving."

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that just yet," The woman interrupts. "If you leave now you could pull your wound open again. Do you have anyone we can call?"

"No." Is all he says before turning back to the man, "You can't keep me here."

"You're right." He says, "But it'd be in your best interests to stay. You get shot often?"

Nathaniel opens his mouth to answer, the word no lodging itself into the back of his throat. This is a joke.

"I'll take your silence as a yes, then. Can we get a name or am I going to have to give you one?"

"My name is Na--" He cuts himself off, realising how close that was, "Na--for fuck's--You can call me Neil," He says instead, because, they can. If they want. It’s a statement, not a lie. Good to know _that_ works still. "Neil Josten."

"Call me Wymack, Neil," And Neil feels so much safer than Nathaniel. Feels so much more solid, as fake as it was. 

"What's the deal with this place then, Wymack?" He mocks in turn, feeling a little more at ease with a name to put to the face. Neil knows better than anyone how much power a name can have. 

"As I heard Abby telling you already, it's a hostel," He says, calmly, "A charmed one, but a hostel nonetheless." 

Neil doesn't ask for an explanation, because it seems clear enough that he needs one. He's seen the charms his father's men had used in the past, and how powerful they can be. 

"You can get the information off of the others if you want specifics, but the low-down is this - this place gives you unconditional return in exchange for the thing most important to you."

_Lying_ , Neil assumed, was what _he_ was using to power this fucking charm. _Great._

"If the protection is unconditional, how come that baseball bat hurt like a bitch?"

"You mean Andrew? Because he's powering the charm too. Self-defense, arguably. Offers protection from things outside. Lures people who need the protection in."

"Good to know." Neil says, dropping back down against the bed. "So you're not letting me leave until I'm better?"

"Not a chance."

_Don’t slow down, don’t trust anyone._

"Fucking _great."_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which neil talks to nicky, kevin and andrew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyhey if you wanna see updates/potential other content which i'll probably post find me at http://andaminyard.tumblr.com

It didn't take long for Neil to realise that sitting around waiting to recover was the worst possible thing he could be doing right now. The coast was too close for him to clear his mind completely of the loss of his mother - the one person he'd ever trusted to keep him together - and the feeling of loneliness that came from that, even around all these people, was overwhelming. 

"What's with that face?" Nicky, who he'd long since learned loved to talk, asked. 

"There's nothing to do here," And it's not a lie - as he’d learned only a few hours before, when introducing himself to Wymack, so long as he doesn't say something untrue, it's fine. _He'll be fine._

"You could do _me_ ," He's grinning, and Neil doesn't quite understand what he means by that, so he opts to ignore it completely, thinking he'll just leave it there. Naturally, he thought wrong. "What're you down for, anyway?" 

"What?"

"Y'know, which way do you swing?"

"What?"

"Are you _gay_?"

He stares at Nicky for a long moment - the word no not quite making it to his mouth but the word yes not feeling quite right, either. "I don't think so," he says instead. With his mother at his back throughout the entirety of puberty and beyond, he's never really had a chance to experiment or try anything with anyone. Never really felt a need to. And definitely can't see its importance to Nicky here and now.

"But there's a chance you are?" Nicky asks, because apparently he can't leave anything alone.

"Probably not," Neil says - hoping it'll finally shut him down. And it does, to an extent. Because then Andrew's entering, and it feels like the whole atmosphere shifts and Nicky seems more than happy to drop the topic - not that Neil minds.

"The rabbit lives," He says, "Didn't see that one coming. How was my welcome last night?"

"I've had worse."

"I could tell that from your shoulder. Besides - not what I asked."

He'd almost forgotten about his shoulder after Abby had given him some pain-killers which he'd begrudgingly taken. It'd left him with nothing more than a dull throb and he he'd be lying if he said he wasn't grateful for it. He'd much rather have not taken anything though. Though if anything was down to him right now, he'd be across the world, far out of reach from anything that could hurt him - not right in the centre,  surrounded at all sides and exits closing off by the second. Just the thought had him clenching his teeth -- a distorted sense of panic twisting in his gut.

 _"Who're you?"_ The voice pulls him away from his thoughts, but looking up does little to ease the feeling in his gut. Kevin Day. Kevin Day. A name and a face he knew far too well. The Moriyama family had taken Kevin in as a child - knowing full well he was capable of putting charms into place, just as they are. Neil didn't doubt that he'd set the one on the bar up, and that the Moriyama's knew exactly where Kevin was because of it -- and by extension---

"Who're you?" He repeats, clearly impatient. But it's a pleasant reminder that at the very least, Kevin doesn't recognise him.

He's almost telling him his name, letting it slip off of his tongue along with his inability to lie and his current desire to tell the truth. Instead he asks, "Haven't you heard?"

"That you turned up our of no-where in the middle of the night with a bullet in you?" Kevin says, eyebrows quirking. Neil can't help but let his eyes catch onto the definitive mark on his cheekbone -- a snake formed in the shape of a _2_ to match Riko's feather-sharp _1_. A solid confirmation of him being Kevin Day. _Marked by the Moriyamas._

"Yeah," Neil says, non-committal - he's not paying attention to a word either of them are saying, too distracted by the concept of _Kevin Day_ and the word _Threat_ and how intricately they seem to fit together.

"That doesn't answer my question," He's telling him, sounding as self-confident and egotistical as ever. And god, does Neil hate it.

"Neil," He states, and it feels a little more honest this time - a little less like he's playing some kind of word game. For the time being at least, he is Neil Josten.

"Neil," Kevin says slowly - looking almost like he's trying to place something. "Next time you get blood in the fucking carpet, I don't care how out of it you are, I'm not dealing with it."

_Thank fuck._

"If I'm here then surely there won't be a next time," Neil responds, thinking back to his conversation with Wymack last night. He doesn't think it unfair to pointedly look at Andrew after saying it, given how he seemed more than happy to attack him already.

" _Theoretically_ , if you bleed again, you're cleaning it up." Kevin looks as though he's finished at last, and Neil can't help but notice how exhausted he's left feeling. "I'm going to get something to eat, are you staying, or?"

Neil shakes his head, and Andrew doesn't even give him the time of day, but Nicky seems more than happy to tag along and leave them alone. Which if not for the way Andrew had so kindly welcomed him the night before, wouldn't have been a problem. But, of course, it was.

"Neil Josten," He says pointedly, and Neil can't help but notice that he doesn't seem to have the same mismatched edge that he did last night. More calm, less --- manic. "Feeling a little lost, are we?"

"Not quite," He frowns, trying to work out what it is that's different and then also why he even cares. Wymack had told him last night that this place was for refuge - he didn't doubt that Andrew must've had a reason to be here, too.

"Don't think too hard, you might break something." Andrew commented, and Neil almost wanted to go and ask to see if Kevin was still looking for people to go with him.

"Are they leaving the bar?" Neil asks, instead - thinking it's probably going to get him more answers than to straight up ask about Andrew. This way he could at least warm up to more personal questions.

"There's a world outside of these walls," He says, but Neil still doesn't understand why. If they were here to stay safe, surely leaving would defeat the object of that. No matter how boring that was. If his mother had known of such a place he could guarantee that they'd never have left. And for as long as Neil's sure it's safe to stay, he will.

"A _dangerous_ world," Neil reminds him, and Andrew doesn't look amused or disappointed or  _anything_. And it's frustrating in a way it shouldn't be. Last night it was all smiles, and now it's all flat - like there's nothing there. Neil can't help but wonder if that's the effect of the charm.

"What's a life worth if you don't live it?"

"I'd rather live safe than die because I wasn't smart enough to be careful."

"There's a line between careful and stupid."

Neil wants to argue, wants to tell him he's wrong because whether he was careful or stupid, his father's men would still be chasing him and he'd still be here. Instead, he takes the conversation and pulls it in another direction, "What did you give up?"

"Someone doesn't waste any time," Andrew says, and he hates that even now he doesn't sound surprised, "But I'll indulge you, just this once. My self-preservation."

"No, really," That doesn't make much sense to Neil, who is only staying here because of his self-preservation. Who will do anything to keep himself safe and away from harm.

"No, really." Andrew mocks, voice lacking in tone. "Your turn to tell me - if you've worked it out yet."

Neil should've seen this coming, really. He knows he shouldn't have asked if he didn't want to answer it eventually. And without the ability to lie, it becomes very hard to avoid having to explain that he can't. Staying quiet and pretending to try and work it out feels like the best option he has. He doesn't exactly expect Andrew to leave it at that, but he does.

"You want to stay here?" Andrew asks instead, and when Neil nods, he continues, "You have to come out with us on Friday then."

"I want to stay _here_ ," Neil reminds him. He's not going to use this as a safe haven, only to leave and highlight where he is to the world. That defeats the purpose of it completely. "I don't want to leave."

"As I said, come out with us on Friday, and afterwards, you can stay as long as you like."

"And what if I don't?"

 _"What if_ you don't?"

"One night?"

"One night. All you have to do is show up and stick with us."

"And I can stay?" _Don’t slow down._

"As long as you like."

"One night." _Don’t trust anyone._

“Good decision, Josten. There’s hope for you yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as usual kudos & comments are always appreciated!! <3 thank you so much for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically starts off as the Columbia trip (except in cali because that's where they are ofc) from the book and then... takes a turn into an issue of Raven territory.

The rest of the week went by without too much of a hitch. Neil had used it mostly as an opportunity to meet some of the other _Foxes_ \- as they apparently dubbed themselves - and to find out more about Foxhole and the people around it in general. He'd found out enough to know that it only works its charms on people who need it, and draws them closer in particular, but plays itself as an ordinary bar to anyone else. The foxes act as the staff, and in return, Wymack lets them stay and stay _safe._

He'd also discovered that Andrew, Kevin, Nicky - and more recently discovered, Aaron - were all referred to as _monsters_ by the rest of them. And apparently, for good reason.

Although Neil had, at first, assumed that the more manic, slightly off-tune Andrew he'd met on his first night was actually Aaron, he'd later been told that _no_ , that's how he normally is. And _no_ , it’s not natural, he's just high as a kite, and that it's for the better interests of everyone if he remains that way. Not that Neil could agree. The Andrew he'd met afterwards seemed much more mellow, like his harsh edges were more contained and would only be a threat if he let them be. It seemed a lot like Andrew being drugged was in the best interests of everyone _but_ Andrew.

But given the way that the rest of the foxes seemed to react to him, by watching him from a distance and avoiding any contact they could, Neil couldn't help but wonder why. To the point where when he mentioned that he was going out with the monsters, Allison couldn't help but gasp in a far too melodramatic way and advise him against it. Something which Dan and Matt, and even _Seth_ \- who he'd taken a firm disliking to and from - all managed to agree on.

And _okay_ , maybe Neil had been born and raised on the instinct to survive. And as a result, being given an almost literal red light by more people than he cared to name seemed like all he should need to turn it down. But there was no chance that these guys could be that much of an threat to him after all he’d been through and Neil didn't want to risk what Andrew might do if he didn't go with them, and if it gave him a chance to breathe and get to know his surroundings a little better, then what harm could it be? If this place really was charmed, he was sure he'd be safe the second he stepped back inside. It’ll be like he never even left.

"Present!" Nicky declares, as he enters loudly through the front door, pulling Neil out of his train of thought. He drops a black plastic bag down in front of him before continuing, "So I guess me and Andrew went out and picked something more chic for you."

"Why?" Neil's asking, frowning up at him. Although Neil had taken a bit of a liking to sitting in the main area of the bar to eat, away from the noise of the others in the rooms above it, he was starting to think that it was too insight of Nicky in particular, and he couldn't help but want a moment of peace. At least while he was eating his breakfast.

"'Cause, to put it bluntly, all your clothes _suck_ ," Nicky’s as straight to the point as ever. "And you're too short to take from anyone else's wardrobes, so, your own gets an update. Lucky you."

" _Lucky me,”_ Neil agrees, half-heartedly. “So you and Andrew just decided to go shopping together? I bet that was interesting."

"You'd be surprised," Nicky says - taking a seat across from him. As if Neil _wants_ him to stay. Luckily, Nicky just starts bleating off about the girls and how they won't come shopping with him or _whatever_. It's vague enough that Neil can get away with pretending to listen, while just letting himself get distracted and go back to deciding whether or not tonight will be worth it.

 

* * *

 

 

Neil would be lying if he said that he'd expected Andrew to pick out anything other than a black outfit, but with Nicky there too, he'd definitely expected something with a bit more flair. Or at least, until he put it on and realised just what it was he was holding.

The amount of belts and buckles and zips on the garment was obscene. It felt heavy on the light, almost sheer material and even in the mirror up on the bathroom wall only showing him his waist up, he could tell that this was going to be more eye-catching than anything he's ever been used to. Even alone in the bathroom he feels exposed, like too many eyes are on him. Just one night, he reminds himself. _One night and safety is yours._

He's perfectly on time for when Andrew told him to be, but it still looks like they've been waiting for him, all gathered around the back exit of the bar.

"All dressed up I see," Andrew's saying, his grin firmly in place and as unnerving as it was the night Neil had first met him. "Except for those. Take them out."

"Take what out?"

"Your contact lenses. Take them out."

"I'm--" Absolutely wearing them. But the right words won't come, he can't say that. "What contact lenses?" He asks instead.

"Tell-tale blue ring," he mocks, and Neil clenches his teeth – he’s always been too worried people will notice.

"What if they're naturally like that?" He's asking. He can't lie, but that doesn't mean he can't beat around the bush - _be difficult about it._ He doesn’t want to take them out while Kevin’s there, eyes stuck tight to him.

"Could you have picked a more boring colour than brown?" Nicky asks, unhelpful.

"Contact lenses or not, can we go?" Aaron's asking, and Neil's thankful he hasn't had to speak to him directly yet. He seems like a handful. When Kevin backs him up on it, that thought only further solidifies.

"We can leave when Neil takes out his contact lenses," It's petty and they both know it. But if that's what it'll take for Andrew to shut up about it and let them go so he can get this over with, he'll do it. Peeling them out of his eye feels like removing a splinter in that it does feel better, but he can't say the panic that rises in his stomach as Kevin studies him afterwards makes it feel worth while. "Better. Let's go."

The car journey there is less than stellar, and Neil can't help but feel like having left Foxhole is the most daunting thing he's ever done. It's as though over the last few days, he's come to feel like a weight has been lifted and now it's back and pressing on his chest, heavy like a bag of stones. But it does give him the chance to consider one thing. If he's left, there's a good chance that for now, at least, he's not stuck with having to be as honest as he has been. It's a theory, at best, but definitely one worth testing.

Sitting between Aaron and Andrew, with Kevin riding shotgun and Nicky driving, he can't decide who his best contender to test it on should be. He knows that, really, it should be Nicky, but Neil's not feeling particularly easy with him driving them anyway, and with how easily Nicky seems to get distracted, there's no way that that's a good option. Kevin's been sat in silence the whole way there, and while Aaron's clearly not the most enthralled with Neil, he feels like he's still a better choice than Andrew.

So he starts off small.

"How do the other foxes tell you two apart?" He asks, before trying, "I can't tell you apart for the life of me." _Success_.

Aaron just taps on his forearm and then points to Andrew, who when Neil turns to look at, is already looking back at them, grin distinctly missing from his face for the first time since their conversation the other night. Neil wants to ask if he's going to put it back, given his court ordered prescription and all, but Andrew looks almost ill. Maybe now isn't the best time to start judging him for not wanting to take his meds.

When Nicky pulls up outside of a restaurant, Neil's immediately feeling over-dressed. It's a quiet-looking joint, and he's almost sure Nicky's only stopping to ask directions or something until they all start piling out of the car. He doesn't waste time getting out, following them inside and watching as Andrew asks the waiter something as they're led to a booth near the back.

"You look confused," Nicky observes.

"Going all this way for dessert wasn't quite what I was expecting."

"Not our final stop," Nicky explains, "Think we'd dress you up like you're going to a party and then waste it at an ice-cream parlour _? P-lease."_

"Where are we going then?"

"A club," He says, "You'll see."

"If you wanted to go drinking so bad, we literally live above a bar."

"Bars and clubs aren't the same thing Neil. Sad old men go to bars, cute young guys go to clubs. One is for drinking, the other is for parties. Very distinct difference."

"Just start dancing at a bar, I'm sure no one will care."

"Me, Neil, I'll care. Besides, you can't get cracker dust at Foxhole."

"What?"

"Cracker dust, y'know?" And when Neil shakes his head he continues, "Some of the best shit on earth. You get a good high without all the risks."

Neil wasn't quite sure he brought that, but the waiter came back over to take their orders, so Neil let the conversation drop in favour of not being overheard. After all, he wasn't sure how the staff would react to them all talking about drugs, and getting himself noticed was the last thing he wanted to do. Or at least, that's what he figured up until he watched Andrew digging into the packets left in the centre of their tables. Maybe talking about drugs in front of them wasn't an issue then.

He wants to ask why he doesn't just take his court prescribed ones, but with Kevin already placing the bottle out for him and the way Andrew shoots down the idea without opening his mouth Neil doesn't feel like he needs to. It's almost funny how even away from Foxhole, that self-preservation he supposedly gave up isn't there. Neil can't help but wonder if there's more to it than just that, but if he's planning to stay, he's sure there'll be plenty of opportunity to find out.

Neil doesn't get the chance to finish his ice-cream before Andrew's leaving a too-large tip, and leading them all back to the car. He's almost certain Andrew's planning to take up the driving seat, buzzed with the crackers from before, but much to Neil's relief and Kevin's disapproval, he's going around to ride shotgun instead. Clearly feeling much better without his withdrawal playing up from the crackers in his system.

He still didn't understand why Nicky felt the need to go drinking all this way away when there was a perfectly good bar with perfectly good drinks and perfectly good safety at Foxhole. At least, not until they're pulling up and suddenly his clothes feel like they're drawing attention thanks to how underwhelming they are compared to some of the others he can see walking around. Okay, maybe this wasn't Neil's cup of tea by any means, but he could definitely see how it was different from Foxhole. That did little to put him at ease though. While Foxhole felt like the safety it assured, this place-- this place crawled with bad energy. Too many people, too much noise.

Kevin, who'd been pretty much silent since they'd left earlier this evening, suddenly decided to kick up a fuss about it too.

"I thought we agreed not to come back here," He says, and Neil's immediately turning to see the panic crossing Kevin. Not the most reassuring thing he could think of.

"It'll be fine," Nicky's whining in the front, "Andrew said it was chill, and Aaron doesn't care either, it's just you, Kevin."

"I think I have a pretty good reason for you to turn the car around _right now."_

"Kevin, Kevin," Andrew's almost cooing, and it sounds so strange coming from him after how silent he was earlier. "Even if they do pick up where we are, chances are, the lot of them are still over in West Virginia. By the time they can even book a flight down here we'll be safe again."

 _West Virginia_ and _Kevin Day_ click a little too easily for Neil. It's no secret that they're talking about the circle of Ravens - the same place he almost ended up if he had picked up his father's abilities. Fortunately -- _or not_ \-- he aligned with his mother in her lack of charms. Sometimes Neil couldn't help but wonder if the only reason she chose to ran with him was because _she_ would have been killed too, for not being able to give her husband a son who for all he resembled him, was nothing alike him in terms of power.

"What's going on?" He's asking, because while it felt as though a night out couldn't be too much of a threat before - the possibility of them going inside somewhere which was Moriyama domain had him ready to climb over Aaron, however asleep he might be, and force his way out of the car and as far away as he can get.

"Kevin just needs to learn to have a little fun is all," Nicky's saying, shaking his head, "We can go somewhere else if you're that upset about it? But this place has the best atmosphere and as Andrew was saying - we're in California, Riko probably doesn't even know he owns this place."

Neil wants to ask who Riko is, just to slather on his naivety and help squash any possibility that Kevin is somehow on his trail, but he opts to stay quiet instead. He watches as Kevin gives Andrew a steady glance, which is returned easily, and it's not something Neil quite understands, but Kevin's shaking his head and moving to get out of the car.

"We won't stay long," Kevin says, "And we'll keep together, just in case. This is the only time I'm letting it slide. I don't care how desperate you are for a good atmosphere next time, Nicky."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Potentially another chapter to come later tonight/tomorrow??? because i'm already halfway through it and i have no self-control. i have so many ideas for this fic i'm overwhelmed!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for getting this far!! Please leave a comment & a kudos if you enjoyed it to let me know if you want me to continue!!


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